


I Wouldn't Forget You

by frigid_stories



Series: The Recon Corpse Hospital [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Amnesia, Fluff, Multi, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frigid_stories/pseuds/frigid_stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kierschtein, son of rich, distant, and aloof parents wakes up in a hospital, with no memory of his life before that point. Now, he has to try and recover his memories, while also dealing with the fact that Sasha steals his fries, Ymir draws on his face, and Eren attacks him naked. It'll be an interesting adventure to reclaim himself, and he might just find a few others along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the first Fanfiction I've ever written, and it was edited by the wonderful, and very annoying K-W. Anyways, I love Jean, and this was originally gonna be Ereri, but hey, then came along JeanMarco. (And a very pushy editor) Enough rambling, I hope you enjoy it!

It was already dark by the time they left the party, and Jean was more than a little tipsy at that point.

       “Marco?” he asked, looking over at the boy in the driver’s seat of his SUV.

       Marco grinned and winked, his face lighting up the dark space. “Polo,” he replied,

       “Marco?”

       “Polo,”

The exchange went on for a number of minutes, Jean’s face growing warmer and warmer each time his boyfriend said “Polo,” instead of answering him.

       “Marco?” Jean said, one last time, turning to looking out his window at the passing scenery.

“Pol-”

“Marco, look out!” Jean interrupted, his eyes wide.

That was when the car hit them. Jean knew because he felt the force propelling him through the windshield, and onto the cold asphalt. When his head made contact with the freezing concrete, it took all of his effort not to black out. “Marco!” he shouted, ears straining for Marco’s reply of ‘Polo’ even as he lost consciousness.

It never came.


	2. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean wakes up in the hospital, and is faced with some unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The first official chapter!

Jean awoke to numerous machines beeping. Frowning, he opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

"Oh no you don't," an enthusiastic woman said, pushing him back down. "I'm afraid it'd be best if you stayed laying down. But now that you're awake... We can get started on some tests!" The woman added, her eyes bright behind her thick glasses.

Jean groaned. "Tests?" he asked, looking around, annoyed. Where am I, he wondered. Why am I here?

"Now, what year is it?" the woman asked, continuing to speak.

"Uhhh, 2014, right?"

She nodded. "That's correct. What's your name?" she asked, jotting down a note on her clipboard.

Jean sat up, ignoring her protests. His head was pounding, but he decided to ignore it. "What's yours?" he retorted.

"Oh, silly me!" she exclaimed, grinning. "I'm Hanji Zoe, head psychologist here at Recon Corps General Hospital. Now, I'm afraid I need you to answer the question." Hanji looked at the two toned boy through her glasses and sighed happily.

"Jean. Jean Ki-Kierschtein, I think." Jean replied, glancing around the stainless white hospital room. That was his name, right? He couldn't remember. Weird, he thought to himself. "Wait, why am I here?" The boy asked, hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Hanji grinned wider. "I think you already know. What's the last thing you remember from before you woke up?"

"N-nothing. Abso-fucking-lutley nothing." Came his stubborn reply.

"I thought as much. You, and your boyfriend, Marco, were in a car crash. You went through the windshield, landed on your head, and now, you're here." The psychologist concluded, pushing her glasses up her nose in one fluid motion.

Jean's eyes widened in shock. "Car crash? Boyfriend? Who the fuck is this Marco, ‘cuz I think I'd remember if I was gay, psycho lady." Wrinkling his nose, the boy sneered rudely at Hanji.

She chuckled, shaking her head, her ponytail swinging from the motion. "Jean, why don't you come with me? I'm sure you've got tons of questions, and I'll take you to someone with answers."

"Okay," Jean answered, slowly sliding out of the bed.

He was about to walk out the door when he collapsed and nearly fell before Hanji caught him. "Let's take you to the bathrooms, then Erwin, okay?"

-

 

When they had finally reached the bathrooms, Jean took a quick piss, washed his hands, and while lathering the soap, the boy looked in the mirror and paused at his reflection.. His usually clean two-toned hair was sticking up in stranges directions, and there were stitches across his forehead. _Damnnnn. Must have been some car accident_ , he thought to himself.

-

 

He'd been sitting in this chair for at least 10 minutes, and still, no one. He ass ached, and his mind was blank. Sighing, he looked around. The office was plain, with a desk, a few bookshelves, and a window. Nothing special, he decided, when the door creaked open. Jean flinched as a tall, stern looking man came in and sat in the imposing chair behind the desk. The man placed his elbow on the table, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure. Jean sat up straighter and put on his signature sneer in an effort to look equally as impressive.

"My name is Erwin Smith, and I'm the head of the hospital. Hanji tells me you have questions?" the man trailed off, his eyebrows clenched with concern.

"What do ya think, I woke up in an unfamiliar room, with no memory whatsoever, only to find out that my 'boyfriend' and I were in a car crash-- when I know for fact I'm not gay-- and now here I am. You tell me, do you think I have questions?" Jean replied, narrowing his eyes towards the blonde man.

Erwin nodded thoughtfully and clasped his hands, "I'll just get started then. You're a resident of the Recon Corps General Hospital, although it is sarcastically known as the "Recon Corpse Hospital". You've got amnesia, and are suffering from multiple head traumas," Erwin paused before continuing, "You and Marco were on your way to his house after a party, and apparently you'd both been drinking," he frowned, and narrowed his eyes while Jean's got progressively larger, "Underage drinking is very dangerous, as you can see. Anyways, a truck hit the car, and you were flung out the windshield and onto the road." The man settled back into his chair and waited for a response.

"What happened to Marco?" Jean asked, after a brief pause.

Erwin's blue eyes held a note of sadness as he studied Jean. "Marco... Marco was trapped in the car. He's in surgery right now, and we're hopeful that he'll at least make a partial recovery." He answered somberly, before turning away.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Jean asked, as he leaned forward. _What the hell had happened? And, what exactly did Erwin mean by 'partial recovery'_?!

Thoughtfully, Erwin regarded him from across the table. “It means, Mr. Kierschtein, that Marco will have to suffer through the rest of life with one less arm, leg, and eye than normal people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Pushy editor was pushy, but hey. I'm glad.


	3. Introductions to Modern Hijinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean meets some of the other people at the hospital, including Armin, Sasha, and Eren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes. it is here. read on, lovelies.

Jean blinked wearly and when he heard the door to his plain, boring hospital room open. “What?” he asked blandly, not bothering to sit up.

Slowly, a small blond nurse, whose shaggy blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, entered Jean’s field of view. “My name’s Armin,” he said, lifting a cardboard box and setting it on the table next to Jean’s bed. “Hanji said I could bring some of your old stuff, so here it is.” Armin explained, his blue eyes analyzing as Jean sat up. “I’ve got your iPod, some clothes, a photo album, and some other stuff. Feel free to look through it.” he explained, as he looked into Jean’s eyes, guiltily. “There’s also, uh, a letter, from your parents,” Armin added, before turning around and leaving abruptly.

Sighing, Jean pulled the box closer, before pulling out an old iPod, a thick book, and an envelope. Reverently, he turned on the iPod and frowned as ‘Evacuate the Dancefloor’ started playing through the earbuds. You’ve got to be kidding me. Head in his hands, Jean laughed; he must’ve been super popular back then.

Palms sweating, Jean set the large book on his lap and opened it carefully. The first pictures were of a small baby being held by a stoic looking woman, his mom. On the next page, a small Jean was sulking in a tuxedo, next to a coffin. He flipped the page to see 11 year old Jean pouted next to his mother, as she looked up adoringly at a tall, mobster-esque man, Jean at the beach, Jean at the stables, Jean at school, all of the things he’d done over the course of his life, but none of it was familiar. Sighing, the boy hefted the book off his lap, where it fell open to the last page on the bed. This page was unlike the others. I took these pictures, he thought, although how he knew was a mystery. The page was covered in photos of a tall, freckled boy with dark hair. In one, the boy was laughing, his head thrown back. In another, he and Jean were nose to nose, both grinning ear to ear. In an odd way, it made him sick, the boy decided, snapping the album closed. As he flopped back on the white comforter, Jean felt a crinkle of paper under his head. It was the letter from his parents. Making an executive decision to ignore it, he stood, and left the room, headed for the cafeteria.

Entering the cafeteria wasn’t all that different from eating a spider. Nerve wracking, uncomfortable, and something you’d want to get it over with as soon as possible. The entire room seemed to be filled with other teenagers glaring at him. Was it just his imagination, or were they whispering behind their hands? As fast as he could, Jean grabbed a random tray, and tried to find a seat. From across the room, he saw a hot asian chick in a red scarf, sitting alone and frowning at what was left of her meal.

Jean made his way over to the nearly empty table and slid in next to the girl, “Hey,” he said smoothly, “I’m Jea--”

The girl promptly stood up and walked away. Jean scowled moodily and bit into the burger on his tray, trying to look like he didn’t care.

When Jean heard footsteps approach and stop beside him,  He flinched, but continued eating, shoving french fries into his mouth. Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go away, he thought. When he heard a cough, he reluctantly looked up, and was met with the most soulful brown eyes he'd ever seen. She was so cute, with messy brown hair and an innocent smile that quickly turned into a triumphant grin as she successfully stole the fries of Jean's plate.

"Hey! those are mine!" Jean shouted angrily, standing up to confront her.

Unabashed, the thief just yelled "Connie, I got'em, let's go!"

She took a running leap onto the nearest table, revealing, to Jean’s surprise, she was wearing a boot as well as a splint on one of her fingers and a bandage around one of her forearms. She landed squarely on a surprised patient's tray, her momentum carrying her as she skidded on the tray from one end of the long cafeteria table to the other. As she passed, diners found their plates suddenly devoid of french fries and the thief's pile of expertly stacked french fry boxes reached seemingly impossible heights.

“Connie! Hurry up!” she prompted.

"I can't go on!" a small bald boy shouted as he staggered out of the kitchen, burdened by the largest container of ketchup Jean had ever seen. "You'll have to go on without me," Connie sobbed dramatically, collapsing on the floor.

In an attempt to reclaim the fries, Jean raced over to the small boy, and put him in a headlock. “I’ve got a hostage. Now return the fries,” said Jean menacingly.

       Connie just cackled and jammed his elbow into Jean’s groin, who fell to the floor with a groan. “Carry me, Sasha!” Connie commanded.

Through a haze of pain, Jean saw Sasha shove a wheelchair in Connie’s direction. In a final exertion, Connie heaved the enormous ketchup container onto the wheelchair and pushed it towards the door. Sasha dumped her french fries on another empty wheelchair and ran after Connie, rolling her wheelchair in front of her.

Jean stood, painfully slow as Sasha giggled, “Hurry, he’s getting up!”

By the time Jean got outside the cafeteria, Connie and Sasha were vanishing around a corner, their shrieks and laughter echoing as they ricocheted down the hall. Jean ran after them, but when he turned the corner, all that he saw were two greasy, empty wheelchairs. He scanned the hall, but there were an innumerable amount of doors and hallways the thieves could have disappeared into.

Jean thought he heard a snicker from behind him, but when he looked, there was no one there.

He turned and strolled back towards the cafeteria doors. Self consciously, he boy ruffled his hair, two tones lighter than usual in the early afternoon sun. All of a sudden, and high pitched yell erupted from a nearby hallway and Jean jumped as a naked boy ran out, screaming. Taken aback, Jean was startled, first by the boy’s birthday suit, damn, and then by the fact that the boy was headed straight for him, blood streaming from a small wound on his hand.

“Rahhhhhhhhh!!” the boy screamed, jumping and tackling Jean.

As the back of Jean’s head hit the ground, the boy started scratching at him, despite not having nails. The naked boy growled, trying to grab the back of Jean’s neck.

“Titans… must kill… the titans,” he grunted, face strained in effort to attack Jean, who struggled to sit up under the other boy’s weight.

The fuck? Jean wondered, as the weight was suddenly lifted off of him, by the mercy of a small man in scrubs.

“Eren, you fucking brat. I told you to take the meds. So what the fuck are you doing now, naked, trying to kill that idiot?” Jean heard the small nurse say quietly, but it was even more scary than if he’d been yelling.

As Jean managed to sit up, he saw Armin, the blond nurse rush over.

Kneeling, the nurse examined the growing bump at the back of Jean’s head.“That was a hard fall, I’m gonna need to check for a concussion,” Armin said. “Gravity’s a bitch, but so is Eren when he’s off his meds,” he chuckled sympathetically, having been on the receiving end of far too many outbursts.

Jean complied, and let the nurse work, before speaking. “What’s his deal anyways?” he asked.

“Eren’s a patient in the mental ward,” said Armin quietly.

“So he’s some psycho maniac you keep in a padded cell or something? ‘Cause he’s obviously fucking insane.”

Armin flushed. “He… has his issues,” Armin spoke even softer this time, “But he’s my best friend.”

Now it was Jean’s turn to turn red with embarrassment, “I… I didn’t... know… I’m sure… H-he’s… not…” Jean trailed off.

“I should go,” Armin said, lowering his head so his blond bangs covered his eyes, “Dr. Hanji probably needs me.”

Armin walked away with Eren and the short man, leaving Jean alone in the yard to feel like an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K-W, dammit. First, i'd like to yell at you for deleting the google doc. Second, thanks for helping (creating) Armin's dialogue at the end. And the whole Sasha/Connie thing. Third, thanks for recreating the google doc. :D  
> Also, i'm tracking the tag 'i wouldn't forget you fic' on tumblr so y'know...


	4. Ketchup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is a dork. Erwin laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS BASICALLY 6 MONTHS LATE GOD I AM SO SORRY  
> Introducing Marco's POV also

Jean lay on his wheeled hospital bed with his eyes closed and hands beneath his head. He was considering taking a nap when he felt a drop of liquid land on his forehead. Jean shook his head slightly. Maybe he’d just imagined the dripping fluid. Seconds later, another drop landed next to the first.

Jean reluctantly cracked his eyelids and wiped one hand across his forehead. Even squinting through his lashes, the thick liquid now staining Jean’s hand was unmistakably red. Jean shot bolt upright, every illusion of sleepiness now gone. His heart raced as his eyes strained towards the simple white tiled ceiling, but the only abnormality was a small ventilation grate directly above him. I’m seeing things, the boy thought to himself, as he lay back down to his previous position, still on edge. As he stared up at the grate, it seemed that there were voices behind it, although that was impossible. Standing, Jean walked over and dragged a metal chair under the vent and clambered on top of it. He gingerly pushed the screen aside and stuck his head up into the small hole.

The ventilation shaft itself was far wider and taller than Jean would have guessed. It was certainly large enough to house its two occupants, at least.

Connie and Sasha sat frozen, with slightly guilty expressions on their faces, fries and ketchup smeared across their clothes and the floor of the vent. Sasha’s cheeks were still bulging with an unimaginable amount of food and Connie had stopped right before bringing a fry dripping with ketchup up to his mouth. For a moment, they stared at each other in shock.

Connie was first to recover. He shoved the french fry in his mouth and scooted as far away from Jean as he could, trying to drag Sasha with him. Jean uncomfortably forced his arm through the small gap in his ceiling so his elbow was next to his head. He grabbed Sasha’s ankle and tried to pull her towards him, but she kicked her other foot, the one with the heavy boot on, at his face. He let go of her in favor of defending his head. Jean tried to lunge and grab Sasha again, but the tiny hole he’d put his arm and head through wasn’t wide enough to accommodate his shoulders. Connie and Sasha snickered at his problem as they crawled away. The boy was forced to watch the thieves vanish once more, leaving behind nothing but a few limp french fries and a stain of the red condiment.

“Jean?” came a loud, over-enthusiastic voice, “Jean, why is your head in the ventilation system?” It was Dr. Hanji, resident psycho. “Is something wrong? I’m pretty sure this isn’t a normal occurrence for recovering head trauma patients,” she said, her voice accompanied by the rustle of paper.

“I’m fine,” Jean sighed, “Perfectly and completely fine. I just… heard something...”

“Oh! Do you need help?” the doctor asked, as Jean struggled to extract his head and arm from the vent.

“No.” he answered, just as the metal chair gave way, leaving the boy hanging the grate in an extremely painful position.

Hanji dropped her clipboard, and ran to the door. “I’m gonna get Erwin,” she called over her shoulder as the trapped patient kicked his legs uselessly.

Jean later described the sounds he made as Erwin tried to wrench him out of the vent as grunts of pain, but Hanji, Erwin and Armin could verify them as whimpers.

“Now Jean, this is a hospital, and we expect our patients to take care of themselves, and while as a young, teenage boy, you may feel the urge to stick your head in the vent, it is advised that, ah, you resist.” Erwin lectured, his grin not quite hidden behind his stern facade.

“Oh whatever.” Jean muttered as he rubbed his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you do something about those two lunatics?”

Hanji replied grinning, “Oh, their fate is much worse than yours. They’ll have to deal with Levi for getting the vents dirty, although, this does explain Bertholdt’s repeated complaints that his room smells like ketchup.”

-

Pain. That was the first thing he noticed when he woke up. Burning, coursing through his limbs and lungs, as he struggled to breathe through his lungs. Gasping for air, Marco struggled to sit up, as he clawed at the cannulas stuck in his nose, and was quickly assisted by a small girl in scrubs.

"Easy there, Marco. Take a deep breath, you're okay," the girl instructed, rubbing small circles between his shoulders, patiently waiting for the freckled boy to calm down.

Wheezing, Marco breathed deeply, and tried to speak, his voice cracking, "W-where is Jean?"

The girl reached to her waist and pressed a button on her pager before answering. "Jean is okay, you don't need to worry about him. He's recovering, just like you. Is there anything I can bring you before the doctor comes?"

"Water."

"I'll be back in two." The girl said, flashing Marco a quick smile and leaving.

When the girl returned, Marco was panting, drenched in a thin layer of sweat. She handed Marco the water carefully, and helped move his bandages out of the way. "My name is Krista, by the way." she said with a grin.

"I'm Marco, but I think you knew that." the boy chuckled weakly. "So, care to tell me where my limbs are?" he asked, biting down the panic that coursed through him.

"Do you remember the car crash?" Krista asked quietly, wringing her tiny hands out nervously. "You, you were trapped in the car, your tibia and fibula were crushed, and your entire arm was pulverized." She sighed. "You've go burns on your face, too." The girl added at the end.

"Oh." Was his breathy reply, as they were interrupted by a short man with impeccable scrubs and dark hair.

Wordlessly, the man stripped of the bandages on Marco's bicep. "Be careful with this, you hear?"

Marco nodded, and let the man tend to and change his bandages, the silence only interrupted by small curses from the men, and an exclamation from Krista.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now introducing Marco!

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've got a busy schedule, updates might not be regular, but I'll try.


End file.
